


The Stydia Book

by Blue_Nightshade



Series: The Stydia Book [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Cuddling, Domestic Fluff, Drabbles, F/M, Fantasy, Fluff, High School, Humor, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, Light Bondage, Major character death - Freeform, Married Life, Mentioned Allison Argent, Mentioned Scott McCall, Mentioned Sheriff Stilinski, Minor Character Death, Parenthood, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Poetry, Romance, Sloppy Makeouts, Smut, Stydia, boyfriend/girlfriend - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2015-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 17:10:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2700770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blue_Nightshade/pseuds/Blue_Nightshade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captured within the confines of one book, here are the moments shared between Stiles and Lydia through a variety of genres, and a range of settings. From high school life to married life; fluff to smut; fantasy to poetry; domestic moments to thrilling conflicts, these are Stiles' and Lydia's moments. This is their book. And this is their foundation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so this is my first story on AO3. All I can really say is that I hope you guys enjoy what's to come for The Stydia Book.

She was shivering. The wind was cutting through her thin t-shirt and sleep shorts likes knives, goosebumps rising on her bare skin.

Lydia staggered onward, running frantically through the woods, past leafless trees, trampling on broken branches. Through a maze of dirt, wood, and moonlight above, she finally tripped over an arched branch and fell to the ground. Her skull was pounding along the right side of her head, making it hard to stand up; she did so anyway. Brushing off small twigs and leaves off her clothes, she brought her attention forward. In the middle of empty part of the woods, where dirt and leaves lay forlorn and dead, was a shirt. Lydia brought herself – with a slight pain still throbbing against her head – toward the shirt to take a closer look. She should’ve just ignored it; it was only a shirt. But, there was something about it that seemed vaguely familiar. Picking it up, she noticed that it was grey, a small hole torn at the edge and… and blood soaked across the hem. With a sickening realisation, Lydia knew whom this shirt belonged to.

_Stiles_ , she thought dreadfully.

He was the only one she knew who owned a grey shirt with a hole along the edge, near the seam. She shivered once more, although this time, it was not from the wind. Lydia clutched Stiles’ shirt with white knuckles and tried to settle her breathing. _Maybe it wasn’t blood_ , she thought hopefully.

It could’ve be something else. Anything else.

_Wishful thinking_ , Lydia.

She shot her head up towards the trees. What the hell was that?

“Hello?” She called out, attempting to hide the shakiness in her voice. She clutched the shirt even tighter. “Who’s there?” She called out, louder this time.

No one answered.

The only sound that accompanied her was the wind recoiling back against the trees, blowing dead leaves off the ground and into the night. Instinctively, Lydia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She then exhaled slowly and opened her eyes once more.

It was one of the very few things she ever did when her mind wasn’t in the clear. She only hoped that now, with her focus back on the shirt, she wouldn’t hear anymore voices. She didn’t care whether they were real or not.

_You cannot deny the harsh truth, Lydia_ , the voice spoke again, but this time it wasn’t in her head. It was resonating throughout the woods. _He is dead and you know it._

Lydia shook with fear, holding the shirt against her chest. The voice, she couldn’t make out who it was. It was just… a whisper – a harsh, metallic whisper.

“No.” She rasped out. “No, you’re lying.”

_Don’t be such a fool_. The whisper echoed around the circle of trees surrounding her, becoming louder. _Stiles is dead. That is_ his _blood, on_ his _shirt, which you are holding._

Lydia shook her head violently, dropping the shirt and covering her ears with her hands.

“That’s not true!” She cried.

_Stiles is dead. Your husband is dead._

Despite covering her ears, she could still hear the whisper, invading her mind.

“Shut up!” She yelled. Her knees gave away, she collapsed to the ground, still blocking her ears, but to no avail did it help. It was futile. It was hopeless.

The voice was still speaking, still torturing her with its words. _All that danger the two of you went through as teenagers, and even now you are not safe._ There was a crude sense of humour lacing its voice.

“Go away!” She shut her eyes tight.

_Your husband is dead._

“Leave me alone!”

_Stiles is dead_. The voice grew louder, from a whisper to the sound of a man speaking, a gravel tone edged to its words.

“Stop!” She cried.

_And now!_ The man’s gravelly voice yelled violently. _You will die too!_

Lydia then opened her eyes, brought her hands down to the ground, grabbed a fistful of leaves and dirt, and did what she did best. She screamed. Lydia screamed as loud as she could until it completely blocked out the voice of the man. All she could her was her own voice, high-pitched and loud that it woke her up. She sat bolt upright from bed and screamed until her voice faltered. Taking in her surroundings, she realised she’d been having a bad dream. It was still midnight outside, the moon shining down through the blinds, leaking white lights across the floor in stripes. Her breathing slowly returned to its normal pace. Lydia closed her eyes in relief and clutched the blankets. She was wearing the same shirt and shorts as she did in the dream.

“Lydia?” A voice croaked right next to her. She turned sideways and saw Stiles – alive – lying down, covered in blankets, one arm lying across her pillow. He was wearing the same grey shirt as the one in her dream, the hole still visible toward the edge. Stiles looked up at her with squinted, tired eyes. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

Lydia caressed her hand across his face softly, and fell back against her pillow. Stiles’s hand stroked her hair soothingly. “It was just a nightmare.” She said quietly, lying on her side to face him.

Stiles moved his other arm across her waist under the blankets, pulling her close and holding onto her tightly. He closed his eyes and smiled a tiny bit. “It’s alright now.” He assured her, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “Go to sleep.”

Lydia drowned in his warmth. She had come to realise over the years how assuring and safe she felt when she was with Stiles. Sure, he was still that funny, charismatic, cheerful and goofy teenager she came to fall in love with – Lydia often saw that in him, despite him being her husband now – but there was something he gave her that no other guy ever did: warmth and adoration. In more ways than one, she loved him even more for it. And no nightmare would ever take that away from her. And so Lydia tucked her arm in-between her chest and his, relaxed under his presence, and fell away into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there you have it :) Drop in a kudos, a bookmark, or a comment before you leave... or don't. Whichever way seems good with you.


	2. Boyfriend

   Stiles knew all too well that Lydia’s history with boyfriends didn’t end great. Jackson, her most famous one that everyone – even freshmen – knew, turned out to be a cold-blooded lizard creature who was being controlled by a psychotic teen. But even before that it was pretty clear that Lydia’s relationship capacity with him hadn’t been perfectly within safe borders. The both of them, in a manner of speaking, were like the sharp edges of knives, slashing against each other and making that horrible noise on impact. But despite all that, they held their ground for a good while. Lydia was, after all, the only one who brought Jackson back from being a kanima.

   And only someone without eyes had to deny that he was handsome.

   He _really_ was, but all that came at a price: a venomous attitude towards everyone.

   Then, after he moved to London, came Aiden. Stiles had hoped with all his might that with Jackson out of the picture, he could finally have his chance with her. But, as usual, those hopes were crushed as soon as the alpha pack moved to town. At first glance he didn’t see what was so great about Aiden. Sure, he was handsome too, but seemed a bit edgy. Well, it was that and the fact that he was a vicious and violent werewolf, who freakishly morphed with his twin whenever the situation called for it.

   And yet still, Lydia was dead-set on him. So, high hopes quickly turned to low blows, at least then. After the whole debacle with Jennifer and the sacrifices and the Nemeton, Aiden had lost his alpha powers, prior to almost having his neck snapped completely. While this came to be a trump card for Stiles, it didn’t prove to be so effective, because Lydia was still with him! But, at least then he had other things on his mind, other things to worry about. Like not being able to read properly, or not getting enough sleep, or having a dark Japanese spirit posses his body for the better half of the time. So yeah, crush problems were pretty low compared to that. Besides, it was around that time when he started to develop a relationship with Malia. It was also around that time, he noted with part-interest and part-glee, when he had finally gotten some action, generally speaking. Granted, having sex in the basement of a mental hospital wasn’t the best way to commemorate his first time, but it had been enjoyable. No doubt about that. And then he started dating her. Around that point, Stiles’ long-standing crush on Lydia had dissipated, but he still felt strongly for her, just in a different way. He hadn’t thought it was possible back then, to fall for someone else. But it happened, and it happened with Malia. So, set aside from that, they were officially in a relationship. And it stayed like that until things got a bit complicated. Eventually, they both agreed that what they had between them wasn’t the same as it once was, and so they broke up. It took him a while to get over it. After all, trying to walk away from your first breakup with no wounds was a bit hard to do. He would know.

   Slowly but gradually, his feelings for Lydia came back again. Except this time, and this where he really had the trump card, she had no boyfriend. But that didn’t mean he acted on his feeling immediately. No, he waited. Like always. It wouldn’t be fair to just ask Lydia out on a date, or tell her that he loved her again. It wouldn’t be fair to her. So he waited. And he didn’t mind it one bit. Eventually, he got closer with her. Throughout every obstacle they faced, it brought them closer together. And finally – oh man, finally – the day came where they became so close that their relationship as friends graduated to the next level. And since that day, Stiles could not have been happier. He had finally got the girl he had a crush on since third grade. And she returned his feelings with just as much as love and affection. From then on, Stiles noted two things. One, his relationship with Lydia was different to that of Jackson’s or Aiden’s. What he shared with her was more of pure love and care than lust and fun. It had more to do with knowing each other all too well, and waiting to see the other after class, and having tons of fun on Friday nights- just being with her made him happier than he had ever been. The other thing he had noticed, and this bugged him quite a bit, was that he wasn’t exactly… hot, compared to her past two boyfriends. Nor did he have any supernatural abilities. What he drove to school didn’t even look cool, but hey! He loved that jeep like it was family! But this realisation kept getting at him every time he was with her. Lydia’s line of boyfriends had a lot to offer, and he barely had half of that. But there was one thing that he gave her that none of the others could ever put a price on: true love.

   Stiles loved Lydia more than he loved his jeep, and that said quite a lot. She meant so much to him, a bit like how Scott meant so much to him, like a brother. Scott was his brother. Lydia was his girlfriend. And Stiles was her boyfriend. He was proud to say that, very proud.

   So, as he walked down the hallway of school, the noise of students’ nonchalant chatter resonating off the walls, he immediately saw her at her locker amid the moving sea of bodies.

   He smiled.

   Lydia noticed him and returned his smile with kindness, something she rarely gave away. Stiles walked up to her and cupped her cheeks with his hands, holding her with care and looking into her brown eyes with such adoration and comfort that he leaned in and kissed her deeply. Deep in the sense that his lips massaged hers; deep in the sense that the amount of time they spent kissing rendered a few stares from random students who passed by, wondering why _Lydia Martin, popular and beautiful and smart, was kissing Stiles Stiliniski, of all people._ _Didn’t she have better taste? Jackson and Aiden should’ve totally justified that!_

   But Stiles didn’t care. And evidently, neither did she, because she kissed back with just as much affection and love, placing her hands on his arms. When they pulled away, Lydia caught her breath and looked at him with part-amusement, part-hunger for more.

   “What was that for?” She asked, flicking her eyes from his pair down to his lips every now and then.

   “Just wanted to kiss you.” Stiles replied with ease, a shrug of his shoulders to add a nice touch.

   Lydia, in return, looked bemused, as if not expecting such a casual response. “Well, don’t stop there.” She gestured toward the janitor’s closet to their left with a quirk of her eyebrows and naughty smirk. “How about we continue?”

   Stiles laughed in response and hugged her tightly, breathing in her scent of flowers and perfume and clean skin. Lydia’s scent, he thought giddily. “Thanks for allowing me to be your boyfriend.” He said, slightly muffled from where his mouth was pressed against her hair.

   Lydia took a minute to respond, and even though Stiles couldn’t see her, he could tell she was trying to process what he meant. But she eventually let it go. “Thanks for allowing me to be your girlfriend.” She responded. Lydia pulled away and smiled at him, leaning in and kissing him on the nose. She looked back at the janitor’s closet, and then at him once again. “We only have twenty minutes before lunch is over.” A naught smirk played on her lips. “Let’s not waste anymore time.” And she took him by the hand and led him to the  closet.

   Stiles, upon this, grinned triumphantly. What he had said to her spoke more about how he felt than anything else. He was genuinely thankful that Lydia chose to be with him, and he was more than grateful that she hadn’t broken up with him just yet. He didn’t have the world to offer, much unlike those other guys she had dated, but he did give her love, and by this point, that was more than anything any other guy could every buy her. So, while he was worried that Lydia would compare him to her old boyfriends, put two-and-two together, and dump him for a better-looking guy, the fact that she was taking him to the janitor’s closet for a make-out session told him otherwise.

   Being Lydia Martin’s boyfriend, Stiles realised with glee, was the best thing that ever happened to him.


	3. A Game Of Chess

He moved his piece across the board with an intricate, graceful style of his hand- picking it up with the tip of his index finger and thumb, and moving it across the white tile, onto the black, and taking out her pawn.

Lydia smirked.

She knew too well that she stood no chance – if, possibly, any chance at all – against Stiles when it came to chess. It was his game. Of course, that didn’t mean she couldn’t _try_ and beat him. After all, Lydia did have brains. How hard could it be?

“And the cavalry goes down.” Stiles commented with a cheeky smirk, plucking Lydia’s pawn off the chessboard and putting it aside along with her other pieces.

Needless to say, her brains weren’t playing the right cards at the moment.

But she didn’t care; at least not _now_.

As the two of them sat on the floor in the living room, right next to the coffee table, right opposite each other, Lydia made note of her husband’s features while he was concentrating. It was the same face he pulled every time he was bent over on a case. Whether it was a normal, police-work file or a supernatural debacle, Lydia came to notice how his eyebrows pinched together, how prominent lines appeared across his forehead, and how his eyes stayed deadly focused on his remaining options; on what move to play next; what move to predict; what move to win.

Lydia loved it. Sure, it was one thing for Stiles to look adorable and dorky at the same time whenever he got excited about something – in Lydia’s case, or, would you rather, everyone’s case, that happened quite often – but it was another when he was in concentration. In all her life, Lydia had seen some pretty attractive boys- hell, she’d dated two of them, till one turned into a cold-blooded lizard and moved to London, and the other died by a Japanese demon whilst being a former alpha. But this was different. _Stiles_ was different. She had never had a guy treat her the way he did. Ever since their marriage, and even before that, Stiles always adored Lydia, treated her like gold, and cared for her deeply. Granted, he did steer off her with Malia for a while, but she eventually got him back. And she couldn’t be happier.

But right now, despite having dated attractive boys, none of them held a candle to Stiles as he broke out of his concentration phase and held her gaze with his own.

His brown eyes sparkled off the sunlight streaming the floor, and he smiled one of his mischievous smiles that Lydia came to love.

“Your move, Lyds.” He said, raising his eyebrows and smiling wider in anticipation.

Lydia felt the heat rush to her face as she placed her hand on her king. Admittedly, her brains didn’t guarantee her a win for this game, but it did help her play the right cards into getting what she wanted. And what she wanted was Stiles all over her. So, drawing the dumb card, she moved her king onto the open space of the chessboard, knowing well that she was about to lose. But, again, that didn’t matter. She _wanted_ to lose.

It only meant that things were about to get better. The robes both of them were wearing were a huge indication, if not any other.

Stiles raised her move with one of his own, moving his final piece and taking her king out of the game.

“Checkmate.” He said, smirking triumphantly. “I win.”

“Yes, you do.” She replied, getting excited.

See, Lydia knew she wasn’t going to win; that much was obvious. Stiles was too good of a chess player for her. But that meant she lost. And when it came to this particular version of chess they played, when one of them lost…

“Take it off.” Stiles spoke in a husky voice, eager to get started as she was.

Lydia smirked and took off her robe, letting the fabric slide off her shoulders slowly, until all that was left was her bare skin, exposed before Stiles’ hungry, darkening, predatory eyes.

“Come collect your prize.” Lydia teased softly, seductively.

And Stiles immediately discarded his robe, revealing his bare body, and lunged at her, tackling her to the floor, placing his arms on either side of her, and kissing her wildly. Madly. Fiercely. Hungrily. Passionately.

Lydia smiled in triumph to her inner self.

Yes, she lost, but now, the real game was about to begin.


	4. There's A Carnival In Town

Neon lights illuminated the red evening sky of Beacon Hills. Different rides and stations choked the area, accompanied by excited people, eager to kick off the evening in the best way possible.

Stiles had to practically beg Lydia to go with him to the Autumn-Fest Carnival. _Everyone_ was going, and he was more than ecstatic – more than usual, mind you – about going there with his girlfriend. Yeah, that’s right! Lydia was now his girlfriend. Naturally, Stiles processed this as a gift from heaven above, but even set apart from that, he always knew his heart would eventually return to her. Lydia was, after all and always will be, the love of his life- since third grade to specify.

So, in regards to all of that, he was pumped to enjoy the evening out with her, going on carnival rides, winning a few games, _finally_ being able to go on the love boat for once, and just spending time with her. Oh yeah, and the making out prior to the love boat of course.

Lydia, on the contrary, didn’t exactly share his enthusiasm. Stiles had a fleeting suspicion that she generally didn’t like carnivals, or more specifically, didn’t like roller coaster rides. Her face had whitened even more than usual when he told her about them.

“You’d have to kill me first before dragging me on one of those.” She had commented earlier that day.

“It’s not all bad!” Stiles tried to reason. “Think of it as a rush of energy. Lyds, trust me on this, you wont regret it.”

“I think I’ll take my chances with a no-show.”

“But I– ”

“Stiles, no.” And that was it.

After a few months of dating, and even before that, Stiles – or, practically everyone in that case – knew Lydia to be a stubborn person, and damn could she stay true to her decisions.

So, without any other options left, Stiles rolled out the big guns: puppy dog eyes.

One thing he learnt whilst dating was that whenever he pulled the puppy dog eyes, Lydia couldn’t resist, no matter how hard-core she was with the decisions she made. Much to his benefit, Stiles had a tendency to use it on her on more than one occasion.

Eventually, one thing led to another, and here they were, walking over to the first station Stiles had planned.

“High striker?” Lydia asked with a raised eyebrow and folded arms, staring at the elongated piece of equipment

“Yeah.” Stiles confirmed, looking at her with a bemused expression. “To see how strong you are.”

“I see that.” She commented. “But why this game?”

“Because I want to prove how strong I am for you.”

Lydia stared at him.

“What?” He asked incredulously. “A guy can’t show off his guns to his girlfriend?”

She shook her head. “No.” She said in a reasoning voice, gesturing with a sway of her arms for him to try it out. “Not unless all he has is a pea-shooter.” She muttered.

“I heard that.” Stiles retorted before walking up.

The bar was labelled off at different intervals, according to height, 10 being the lowest, and 100 being the highest. The man running the station gave one glance at Stiles before smirking sceptically and handing him the hammer.

Before hitting the target, Stiles pointed to Lydia and winked. “You just watch, Lydia Martin, as your super-strong boyfriend reaches one hundred.”

***

So he ended up getting 30.

Granted, it wasn’t the best way to commemorate his impressive physique to Lydia, who, throughout the entire round, smiled a wide smile and clapped her hands in mock encouragement, clearly enjoying this, much to his chagrin.

But, on the bright side, he did end up winning a stuffed brown bear wearing a red pointed hat, and holding a cushion heart with the words ‘I love you’ across it. He immediately gave it to Lydia, who smiled warmly and rewarded him with a deep kiss. At least that wasn’t a total fail.

Up next on the agenda was the Ferris wheel. Now, this was a ride where nothing could possibly go wrong, right? At least that’s what Stiles assumed.

Oh, was he wrong!

He had momentarily forgotten that heights weren’t exactly his best friend – but not his worst enemy – and so it was only when they were half way up did he start to feel a little queasy.

“You feeling okay?” Lydia asked, staring at him inquisitively.

Stiles held onto her hand tightly and swallowed. “Yeah,” He spoke a bit shakily, “Just not a big fan of heights.”

At this, Lydia laughed. It was one of those laughs that complemented her aquiline features, her flawless face, and perfect smile. It was one of those laughs that completely engulfed Stiles, and made him forget about heights.

She nestled his hand with hers, squeezing reassurance into him. “Stiles, don’t worry about it.” She nodded her head comfortingly and continued to smile. “Just hold onto my hand, okay?”

Stiles nodded and grinned a tiny bit; happy that she was seemingly enjoying this, though a sneaking suspicion told him it was more from his stupidity than the actual carnival. He scooted over toward her and laced his right arm across her shoulder, pressing his left one into hers across their laps.

Everything at that moment felt so peaceful; so comforting; so _right._ In fact, he didn’t even seem to mind the height anymore, which was fine by him. As long as Lydia was by his side, things were perfect.

But they eventually came back down.

***

The food was pretty decent by Stiles’ standards. Nothing set off a kick-ass weekend better than a foot-long meatball sub topped with extra gravy, sided with a large coke and fries, and for Lydia… a salad.

Stiles had to make a mental note about eating healthier before biting off a huge piece of meatball with gravy spreading to the side of his mouth. Lydia noticed this and giggled; reaching her arm over the table they sat on, and wiped the corner on his lips with a napkin.

He grinned in return, knowing well that he must’ve looked stupid. But he didn’t care; he wanted to look stupid in front of her.

As far as the topic of love went, Stiles was pretty sure it made people do weird things. His case was no less of an understatement.

“So,” Lydia said while poking a piece of cabbage off her plate, “What’s next on the list?”

Stiles shrugged. “That depends.”

“On?”

“On whether you want to get the roller coaster ride done with.”

Lydia blanched.

Stiles smirked.

“We are _not_ going on a roller coaster, Stiles.” She declared, cocking her eyebrows up and pursing her lips in a pointed manner.

Stiles’ smirk widened. “Keep telling yourself that.” He muttered before going for another bite.

In response, Lydia narrowed her eyes on his, holding it with a firm intensity. “Oh yeah, I will. Because I _wont_ being going on one.”

“Or because you will.” Stiles commented in a mockingly observed manner. “Whichever way works for you.”

At this, Lydia glared and threw a piece of lettuce in his direction. Stiles dodged to the side, missing the greenery by a few centimetres and flashing a cheeky grin at Lydia. She stuck her tongue out in response and got up to throw away her finished salad. Stiles looked down at his food and noticed that he hadn’t even eaten half of his fries, much less his sub.

“How about we try something else first?” Lydia asked as she sat back down.

Stiles considered this thought. Yes, he really wanted to get her on a coaster as soon as possible, but considering he was eating right before the ride, he decided it would be best not to throw up on everyone. Which raised an idea to mind.

He returned his gaze at Lydia with a suggestive look. “What do you say about rock climbing?”

***

Rock climbing was nothing like Stiles expected it to be.

What he was anticipating was a fun competition between Lydia and him to see who could get to the top first. What he didn’t expect was finding himself a few meters below her, struggling to get a hold of that _stupid_ rock which was too small to get a grip on, while also trying not to get distracted by the amazing view of her ass.

That wasn’t even fair!

Stiles was ninety per cent sure that, had he been above her, or positioned at a different angle where he didn’t drool over the sight above him, he would already be at the top. Leave it to Lydia to wear nothing but a shirt and short shorts that, in general, complemented her smooth legs, but at the moment, a particular region of her body that was stopping Stiles from moving all together.

So of course, Lydia won.

***

“It doesn’t bother you that you’ve lost two games so far?” Lydia asked, holding a free t-shirt she won from rock climbing.

Stiles eyed the shirt with a hint of not-so-subtle jealousy and continued to walk on, her hand in his. “Not when I’m allowing you to win half of them.”

“Is it really allowing? Because I really don’t think staring at my ass a way of allowing me to win.” She turned her head sideways to face him and smiled teasingly. “I’d say I beat you without even trying.”

Stiles stared at her. “Shut up.”

Lydia’s smile grew even wider. Stiles noticed a photo booth to their left as they past by different stations, an idea came to mind. He squeezed her hand and pulled her toward it.

“Come on.” He said urgently. “Let’s go do something without needing to win anything.”

***

“I think we actually look pretty hot in the last one.” Lydia commented while she examined the four pictures they took.

The first one was of them sticking their tongues out and beaming at the camera, Lydia holding two fingers behind Stiles’ head. The second one showed Lydia encircling her hands around his left bicep and smiling with her amazing set of white teeth, and Stiles attempting to look tough by not smiling. The third one held Stiles with a mouthful of Lydia’s hair and grinning his idiotic grin, and Lydia laughing at the moment. Finally, the fourth one was of their heads touching together, nose-to-nose, but not kissing. Both of them had big, happy smiles on their faces. It was a picture that signified how happy _Stiles_ felt that he was finally her boyfriend, that _she_ was finally his girlfriend. It captured more of how he felt about Lydia than anything else, which is why they got two copies of the photos. That way, they both had these memories to hold on to.

“So now that we have rock climbing out of the way, what do you say about that rollercoaster ride?”

Lydia looked as if she pondered this question, but Stiles knew she was only doing it in a fake manner. “I say it’s still a no-go.”

“Well, what if I say I have an ultimatum for you, in regards to the rollercoaster?”

“I’d say you’d have to be really smart to make a deal with me about a ride like that.”

“Then, generally speaking, how about if you go on the rollercoaster ride with me,” Stiles looked around the carnival to find something. Then, at that moment, his eyes landed on a particular station that etched a smile on his face. “I’ll do something in return for you.”

At this, Lydia looked interested, genuinely interested. She turned and faced him directly, swinging her arms around Stiles’ neck and looking at him with sceptical eyes. “What exactly will you do if I go on a rollercoaster with you?”

Stiles gestured toward the dunk tank a few meters onward. “I’ll volunteer to go on that tank, and you can get me drenched.”

Lydia turned her head around to face the station, and Stiles could tell that from the widening of her eyes, she was on board with it.

She turned back immediately towards him and held his look with a silent fierce one of her own. She leaned in and brought her face to his, her lips brushing his pair as she spoke quietly. “If I find out your lying, Stiles, I’ll drag you over to that dunk tank myself.”

Stiles couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle, despite feeling intimidated. Lydia was pretty scary whenever she looked serious. He held up his hand, as if in a pledge. “You have my word, Lydia Martin.”

And so Lydia took his hand and they walked over to the rollercoaster ride, Stiles practically prancing along.

***

The rollercoaster – the only one in the entire carnival – was pretty massive, so its size made up for its number. Different tracks wounded over and across each other, intersecting at some parts and separating at others. The line wasn’t too terribly big, so the both of them made it to the seats in no time.

As soon as they buckled up, Lydia gave one nervous look behind them before holding on tight.

Stiles noticed this and felt bad about himself. He neglected to consolidate her before they got on. After all, she did the same for him on the Ferris wheel.

“Hey, look at me.” He said, gently cupping her face with his right hand and softly bringing her attention to him. “It’ll be okay, alright? Remember, just close your eyes and think of it as a rush of wild energy.”

Lydia offered a grateful smile for him making things slightly better, but it quickly vanished with a measured look and pursed lips; a common thing she did when she made a point. “If you throw up on me, I’m using your clothes to wipe it off.”

Stiles looked down at his chinos and red V-neck t-shirt. Honestly, his clothes could’ve served an even lesser purpose than a rag cloth. At least it’s what he assumed.

But all thoughts were immediately dismissed as soon as the rollercoaster began to move. First, it veered forward at a slow pace, Lydia shutting her eyes and holding onto Stiles’ hand. Then, as they ascended upward, she tightened her grip on him, still shutting her eyes, as Stiles’ noticed with interest. Finally, as they reached the peak of the ride, Lydia held on so tightly that Stiles was sure she would break his fingers. It took serious power to hold in the pain, because he damn sure felt like screaming like a little girl. He didn’t even know Lydia was this strong. But, yet again, all thoughts were vanished as the rollercoaster began to move down. Stiles only had moments to get a high view of the entire carnival; the different stations positioned at all corners of the area, people milling around and chatting nonchalantly, some woman getting a score higher than 30 on the High Striker. Steroids, Stiles assumed. And then they fell.

The rollercoaster descended downward with such force that it knocked any sense of pain from Stiles’ body, and replaced it with adrenaline and energy. He screamed and hollered in excitement, throwing his left hand up in the air. Lydia, on the contrary, had opened her eyes as soon as they went down and screamed as loud as she could- not a banshee level screech, but a scream that suggested energy. Her metal-vice grip on his hand loosened as they wound through different tracks, moving in a wave of twists and turns. Great gusts of wind blew in their faces as they continued to travel at high speed throughout the entire ride, Stiles feeling like his face would peel off. In all that time, that time of amazing chaos, and kick-ass adrenaline, he could hear Lydia as she hollered in excitement, clearly enjoying the ride as much as he did.

Stiles smiled, feeling proud. He got Lydia to overcome her fear of rollercoasters, and have a good time whilst in the process. But his triumphant smile soon vanished, as he knew what this now meant: the dunk tank.

***

“You know, when I said I would go on the dunk tank if you went on the rollercoaster, I didn’t actually mean it.” Stiles said frantically, trying hard to get out of this as best as he could.

Lydia, much to his chagrin, remained dead-set on him getting soaked with cold water. “Forget it, Stiles. A deal’s a deal.” And she continued to pull his arm toward the station.

“Lydia, wait, wait, wait.” Stiles said, and turned her around to face him. He nestled his hands against her soft cheeks, brushing them with the pad of his thumbs out of habit. “Let’s just try and focus on the main deal, here.”

She raised her eyebrows in curiosity. “Which is?”

“That you overcame your fear of rollercoasters. That you enjoyed yourself.” He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “And that I was with you the whole way through.”

Lydia closed her eyes and put her left hand on his arm. In the dim-blue light of the sky above, her strawberry blonde hair, which fell around her head in curls, made her look even more beautiful than usual. “Stiles, I know. I _did_ overcome my fear, and I _did_ have a good time.” She leaned in and kissed him on the nose. “And thank you for that.” She opened her eyes, and Stiles could see a devious smirk playing on her lips. “But I want to make it better by throwing you in a tank of water.” She turned back around and pulled his arm forward. “Now, shut up and come on.”

Stiles groaned in protest before following.

***

“This doesn’t look too safe.” Stiles informed Lydia, who was at the front of the line, tossing the ball between her hands.

Stiles shuffled uncomfortably on the seat above the tank of water, eyeing it with caution, as if it was filled with sharks.

“Alrighty then.” Said the man running the station. “On your mark.”

Lydia stopped tossing the ball and held it firmly in her right hand.

“Lydia, wait.” Stiles warned, putting his hand forward in front of him.

“Get set!”

She squinted her eyes in concentration, and placed her elbow in front of her, her throwing arm in an L-shaped position at the back.

“Let’s be rational about this. Lyds?”

“Go!”

Lydia threw the ball as hard as she could. Stiles only had a moment to blink before the ball his the target to his left… and he fell in.

Cold water engulfed him all over, soaking his clothes and pressing the water into his skin like cold knives. He immediately swam up to the surface, and found a triumphant Lydia laughing her ass off.

Stiles chided himself to never make a deal with her ever again; at least not one that bet his ass on the line.

***

They walked aimlessly throughout the carnival, spotting different stations and suggesting going on them, but after the evening’s events, Stiles could tell that they both had had enough. But it was still fun, no less. Dear God, it was so much fun. Stiles knew that going to the Autumn-Fest Carnival with Lydia would be butt-loads of fun, but he never expected it to go quite like this. Granted, in almost every game, he was on the losing end. And for the better half of it, he was sure that Lydia had nothing to do with it. Maybe he just sucked at carnival games? More to the point, he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his Saturday evening. Stiles knew all too well that moments like these, where the girl you’ve had a crush on since third grade was now finally your girlfriend, only came once in forever.

But he beat the system.

He got Lydia. And he was never going to let her go… Unless, of course, she dumped his sorry ass, which would most likely be the case.

As they passed by random people, holding hands without a care in the world, Stiles noticed one particular station that they hadn’t been on yet; that _he_ hadn’t been on yet.

“Lydia?” He asked.

“Hmm?” She responded, looking sideways at him with a gentle smile.

Stiles pointed at the ride towards the far left. “Can that be our last one?”

Lydia followed his gaze, and, upon seeing what he was pointing at, smiled a bit wider. Stiles loved it.

“Definitely.” She said.

And they both walked over to The Love Boat with glee.

 

***

The boat they sat on moved a steady, slow pace- perfect for the both of them to sit back and enjoy each other’s company.

Stiles had his arm draped across Lydia’s shoulder, and she rested her head gently against his collarbone. He tried to imagine viewing them at the front of the boat, seeing a young couple intoxicated with love for each other. If his mind’s eye moved closer, it could see that, beneath that veil of care and affection, there were scars. Blisters. Wounds. Marks from a past consumed with fear, danger, grief, and loss. Marks that faded over time, but were still prominent, like tattoos; wearing their skin.

Two years ago, Stiles never would’ve imagined this image; never would’ve thought it as a possibility. Lydia Martin had been the school’s popular icon, the girl who threw the best parties in Beacon Hills, and was flawless in everything. And Stiles? He was a mere no-body, a teenage boy with a massive crush on a girl who was once from a different world, a girl who never regarded him with anything as so much as a small glance.

And now? Now, they were dating. Now, they were inseparable. Their worlds had collided in the most unexpected ways, and throughout all of that, many twists and turns had hit them like… well, like rollercoasters, separating them in different directions, until they were lost. But eventually, they found their way back to each other; eventually, he found his way back to her.

This, Stiles realised, brought a thought to mind.

“Lydia?”

“Yeah?”

Stiles hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether it was a good idea to say it. He didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable. But he said it anyway. “I love you.”

Lydia quickly sat up straight and looked at him, searching his eyes with such intensity that he was sure he would get lost in them. After a moment, and his words finally sunk in, Lydia’s look softened, and she kissed him on the lips.

But she didn’t pull back.

Neither of them did. Stiles shuffled his body sideways so he could get a better angle, and cupped her cheeks with his hands. Her lips moved and grazed softly against his, spreading a sensation of warmth and comfort and love for this girl – this beautiful and smart and amazing girl – all over his body, to the tips of his being. His thumbs brushed her soft cheeks soothingly, but not only from habit this time. And when Lydia’s tongue roamed around his bottom lip, he couldn’t help but let out a low, gradual moan. Apparently Lydia must’ve loved it, because she grabbed a fistful of his hair and deepened their kiss.

They stayed like that until neither of them could no longer breathe.

When they pulled apart, Lydia gave him one of her most genuine, kind, and beautiful smiles that Stiles rarely saw. Although a recollection of past memories regarding those smiles indicated that she only saved those for him. And he loved her even more for it.

So, when they regained the position they were originally in, Lydia’s head resting gently against his collarbone, and Stiles’ arm across her shoulder, he said one last thing.

“Thanks for not leaving me.”

Stiles heard Lydia let out a soft air of laughter, holding onto the stuffed bear in her purse before responding, and what she had said made him happy beyond anything else.

“I’ll never leave you, Stiles”

And they rode off into the night in comfortable silence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

   “Lydia! Wait up!” Stiles called.

   Lydia walked faster down the hallway to her next class, her heels clicking furiously on the tile floors. The sound of nonchalant chatter between students began to dissipate as they settled into their fourth period classes for the day. Of course, that’s what Lydia would’ve _liked_ to do, had it not been for Stiles on her tail. 

   “Lydia.” He called again, finally catching up and trying hard to fall into step beside her.

   “Stiles, what?” She said irritably. Sure, she didn’t mean to sound like that, but far be it for Lydia Martin to act all flowery when she had a human-biology final up next; one of which she had been studying for. Hard. And lord knew what she meant by hard.

   “I just want to make you feel less nervous.” He reasoned, looking at her. “Jeez, that’s all.” Came his mutter.

   “I have my final right now, Stiles. Believe me, there’s nothing you can that’s going to make me feel better.”

   He stopped walking and placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face him, gently. Lydia, despite herself, felt her breath hitch under the intensity of his stare. The way Stiles looked at her sometimes, much like what he was doing right now… well it was… affectionate. Like she was the sun to his rainy weather. Lydia could only count on one hand the amount of boys who had looked at her like that, and considering the amount of boys she had _been_ with… well it just went to show how she was often seen through the eyes of many guys at school.

   Stiles brought his hand up to her left cheek and stroked it soothingly, offering the most kind and sincere and _reassuring_ smile he could offer, like everything would just be all right. “Lydia, you’re going to be fine. Trust me. If there’s anything that I’m positive about, it’s that you _are_ going to ace this final.”

   She faltered her gaze down to his lips, unable to tame the unease settling about her stomach. “But it’s really important.” She whispered. “Stiles, if I don’t get a good score in this test, it won’t qualify as an acceptable result on my application form for Stanford, and if I don’t get into Stanford, I might as well kiss my future goodbye-”

   “You’ll be fine.” He interrupted, repeating his statement from before. “Lyds, I’ve seen you study. I _know_ how much effort you’ve put into this. Believe me, if there’s anyone in the entire world who’s confident about you coming out on top it’s me.” He brushed a loose strand of hair from her ear. “Lydia, you’re the smartest person I know. Any college would be lucky to have you.”

   She looked back up at his brown eyes, wanting to soak in the comfort of his words. He truly believed in her; was so confident and determined she would do well; Lydia only wished she could feel the same about herself.

   “You think so?”

   Stiles genuinely smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “I know so.” He looked at her with a tantalising smirk. “Honest to God, I’m going to feel sorry for everyone else applying to Stanford.”

   Lydia’s mouth quirked up at the corners. “Why?”

   “Because they have no chance next to you.”

   At this, Lydia returned his genuine smiled and hugged him tight, encircling her arms around his neck and breathing in his scent. She sighed. The way Stiles felt when he hugged her, his scent, his smile, his comedic relief; it felt all too familiar. It felt like home. Like Lydia was lost in her own void of comfort and happiness that was hopelessly _Stiles_. It was in that moment did she feel something flutter in her chest; a warm sort of feeling that rendered her happy and content, bereft of any negative emotion. Lydia didn’t know what that feeling was, but she liked it. She liked it a lot.

   When she pulled apart he looked at her wistfully, and under that wistfulness… a faint glimmer of hope. “Can I at least give you a good luck kiss?”

   “No.” She said adamantly, “I can’t have any distractions. Even small ones.”

   He looked at her with what she liked to call ‘puppy dog’ eyes, the hope in his irises disappearing, and what replaced it was slight sadness. Lydia had to restrain herself from grabbing his face and kissing him endlessly and just removing that sad look from his eyes. “Okay.” He muttered, looking down at the ground. “Good luck, then.” He began to walk to his class.

   And Lydia broke.

   “Oh, what the hell.” She muttered before walking up to him, flinging her arms around his neck and kissing him hard, running her hands through his dark-brown hair; a cosy, familiar feeling under the touch of her fingers. He returned her kiss with just as much as passion, grazing her bottom lip with his tongue and nipping the edge. It was all Lydia could do to stifle a moan. When they pulled apart, Stiles beamed at her with one of his idiotic, and yet hopelessly cute smiles.

   “I’ll see you after class, then?” He said.

   “Yeah, after class.” She agreed before pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek.

   She gave him a wink before walking back to class and opening the door to her human-bio final, feeling much more confident than she had before.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Drop in a review maybe? :) Give me that sweet motivation


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